you've never known of me without medication, issues or illnesses.
you say I don't know if it's the meds or you.
personality is alive regardless of your insensitive incessant bitching.
you cried forever poor me when you found out about life quieting diseases.
as if you had to love and live with this.
I'm glad I left when I did
cause the issues you drank on a nightly basis and cheated when you could
may have cause me more than heartache.
our lines drawn in the sand
forever seen as evil in your eyes
manipulation is your godly feat
Leave me to my medicated senses happily defiant.
YOU ARE READING
Salad Days
PuisiSad poems from sad and angry times. Written from a juvenile time (14 years old) to older. That's what you get when you leave a teen to ponder reality. A pen hits reality harder than high school survival. Original Art from Vivianne Rheaume
